Observations
by Maddie Beth
Summary: "It goes back and back, all because of you, darling Wise Child" Magdalena McGuire is moved to Beacon Hills with her mother, a werewolf becomes her best friend and she's sucked into the thick of the evil, although truly, it could never have been any other Set post 3x09
1. Chapter 1

The first time he saw her, he was immediatley alarmed. Historically, new people in Beacon Hills meant bad things. She didn't look dangerous, but then again, Allison didn't either and she had nearly killed him once. He decided to take it upon himself to watch her, to keep an eye on her to make sure she was normal.

She was pretty, he thought, with long and wavy auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes that contrasted with her hair and her porcelin skin. She was very thin. Almost too thin. That was good, she probably wasn't much of a threat in that respect. Even Lydia could probably beat her up. Unless of course she was a werewolf or a hunter or a druid or a darach or some other supernatural being that they weren't yet aware of. Maybe she was like the twins, and could shift into some very large person. No, probably not. She didn't have a twin, not that Isaac had seen, and besides, he hadn't even heard of anyone else being able to do that but them.

She was in four of his seven classes. Her name was Magdalena McGuire, she was from Boston. She preferred to go by Lena. She recited the same mantra at the beginning of every class when the teacher made her stand in the front of the room, and as soon as she was dismissed she made a beeline for the back of the room. So did he though, so it was good for observation purposes. She didn't talk to anyone. Isaac guessed this had something to do with being a new student, especially once the school year had already started. He almost felt bad for her. But he reminded himself that she could very well wind up killing him, so he put off feeling sorry for her for the time being.

She had a book with her, and she was reading it anytime she got the chance. At first, this had raised his suspicion, but then he managed to catch the title. It was _Macbeth_. A bit gruesome, but Shakespeare never hurt anyone. Except his characters, Isaac thought, and laughed audibly before stifling it quickly. She looked at him, and gave him a small smile before turning back to her book.

During the classes he didn't have with her, he made at least one visit to the bathroom, so he could look in the window of the door of her classroom. In the two he saw her, in the back of the room, reading her book.

Then, when he had PE, she was nowhere to be found. She would have had to take it the same period as him, she had academic classes all her other periods. He let it go as he started the cross country run that was his gym class. He was nearing the end and circling around the side of the school when he saw her, sitting on a bench reading. He stopped in front of her. She looked up.

"Uhm, hi, I'm Isaac. Isaac Lahey. We have a couple classes together." He jolted forward a bit to extend his hand. She took it.

"I'm Lena, but you already know that. I've seen you watching me. I'm not blind, you know." She smiled up at him.

"Oh, uh, well we don't get a lot of new people here," he said.

"I get it. It happens everywhere I go. I've been to lots of different schools."

"Oh, why's that?" Isaac asked. It could have some supernatural explanation. He tuned his hearing to the rhythm of her heart.

"My dad was in the army." Her heartbeat was steady.

"Oh cool. So, how come you get out of gym?" he asked, trying to be as casual as possible. She seemed normal. And nice. Smart, as her Shakespeare had indicated, and she was so pretty.

"Oh, my mom would never hear of it. I'm a ballet dancer. I just got some paperwork signed and that was that. If I got hurt in gym my mom would literally have a fit." she smiled again.

"Ballerina, huh? So, you're flexible?" Isaac asked, grinning.

"Of course, I've seriously never heard that before, you're so original," she said, but she maintained her smile. "Shouldn't you be finishing up with your run? I think about half of your class already passed you."

"Yeah, I probably should do that I guess. See you later, Magdalena," he said, already running away.

"It's Lena!" she called after him, chuckling just a little as he turned back to smile.

"So Isaac, what's the word about the new-girl?" Stiles asked Isaac as he approached him in the locker room.

"I think she's normal, but I'm not sure. I'm not even sure if there's a way to be sure."

"Hey, yeah, cool, she's hot, though, right?" Stiles said. Isaac shoved his shoulder and made a noise of disgust.

"Come on man, seriously?"

"What, you can't blame a guy for noticing, I mean she's attractive and hey, maybe this is my chance to keep from being sacrificed as a virgin! It's just logic."

"Well she's probably the only girl you'd have a chance with."

"Oh, really? You think so? Great, that's great."

"Well, that is until you open your mouth. All you've got going now is that she doesn't know you."

"Oh gee, Isaac, thanks bro, way to help a guy out." Stiles said, as he walked away, back to Scott. Isaac turned to exchange a look with Boyd, the kind they normally did when Stiles was around, but of course, Boyd wasn't there. Right.

Isaac slammed his locker and stormed out of the locker room.

**I don't quite know what I'm doing! :) Let me know your thoughts, I love feedback, thanks lovely!**


	2. Chapter 2

After a week of brief exchanges in class or in hallways, he sat next to her at lunch. They talked, really talked, and evetually, he decided that she was just a regular human.

No, not normal. There was something about her that was extraordinary. But maybe only he could see it. And to her, he was extraordinary too, even though she was unaware of what he was.

"Hey there, Lena Ballerina," Isaac said as he sat down across from her.

She looked up from another book, trying not to smile, but failing as a grin, ever so small, excaped her lips. "Points for the rhyme, Lahey."

"Thanks, it only took me a week to think up. That's why I'm only just now invading your table. You don't mind, do you?" He asked.

"No, I suppose now I'll look a bit less pathetic. And I'm about ready to murder the protagonist of this story, so thanks for interupting." she said, taking a bite of the apple that was the only food around her.

"Always looking to help a damsel in distress. Is that all you're eating?" he said, even though he knew it was. She had eaten just an apple every day she had been there. He had watched.

"Yeah, my mom doesn't want me to get fat."

"That's stupid, do you want some of my pizza?" Isaac said, pushing the plate in her direction slightly.

She laughed. "That's so sweet, but I'm okay, really."

He sighed dramatically, and rolled his eyes, "Well then, just reject my gesture of kindness and goodwill, that's fine. But now my feelings are hurt, and I'm afraid that you'll have to go out with me tonight for more pizza."

"Well, I suppose that's truly the only way to repair your fragile and damaged ego," she teased him. "I have ballet tonight. But, just maybe I can skip it. I haven't had pizza in years, God!"

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious! I was like 13 or 14 I think and my dad took me without my mom knowing. God, it's been so long!"

"Are you sure you don't want any now?"

"No no, my mom would be able to tell. I'm already going to have to tell her that I'm going to ballet, I'm going to have to make it look like I am."

"So she's pretty crazy then, huh?" Isaac asked.

"Insane doesn't cover it. What about you? You haven't told me anything about your parents."

"They're not around. I live with-" he paused for a second, he had almost said Derek. "My friend Scott."

"McCall? He seems alright. We're in the same homeroom."

"Yeah. We play lacrosse together. He's pretty cool."

"Cool."

"Yeah," Isaac breathed, changing the subject by asking her what she was reading that day.

"Catcher in the Rye. In my opinion it's overrated." she said.

"I've never read it."

"Never? Well good, avoid it. Spare yourself!" They laughed.

Soon lunch was over, and they went their seperate ways, to meet at 6:00 at the local pizzaria. Lena apologized about the early timing, but she only had the time that she would be taking class, just 3 hours.

She was dressed in her leotard and tights under her warm ups.

"Okay Mom, I'm going now, I'll be back!" Lena yelled, as she was putting on her shoes at the door.

"Lena!" Margaret McGuire said, coming through the foyer from the kitchen to talk to her daughter. "How was school today?"

"Good, Mom, I really have to-"

"You know your father would want you to do your very best. Don't lost focus. That goes for school too, just ballet."

"Can we please not talk about Dad? I'm going to be late." With that, she threw open the door and ran to her car. She drove to the studio, where she parked, and climbed into the backseat to change. She climbed back to the front seat and pulled down the visor, flipping up the mirror. She took all of the pins out of her hair, and her bun came tumbling down. She sighed, combing her fingers through her hair to try and make it look halfway decent, then put on a plum lipstick, dabbed most of it off, and drove to the restaurant. She had never done something like this before. She wasn't sure if it was a date or not, but even if it was just meeting a friend for dinner, she had no experience.

But it didn't seem to matter. She met Isaac outside, and she had so much fun. He wasn't the first friend she had ever had, but she hadn't had a good friend in years. And Isaac was brilliant.

The two split a medium pizza, with all of the meat toppings available on Isaac's side, and just pepperoni on Lena's. It was delicious.

And as soon as she finished she excused herself to go to the ladies room, where she threw up everything she had just eaten. She kept a toothbrush in her purse at all times, and vigorously brushed to get the acidic taste out of her mouth. It took several minutes as well as breath spray and mints and gum. She went back to Isaac.

They paid, and left the restaurant. He walked her to her car.

"So really, thanks for skipping your class. I really had fun."

"Well I did too." She said.

"We should make this a more frequent thing."

"I wouldn't be opposed to that."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow?"

"It's Saturday, we don't have school."

"I know. I'll text you."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Wait, I have class tomorrow, and I don't think I can skip it, not after today."

"Well, can I come watch it? We could do something after."

"I think so. Okay."

"Okay. See you tomorrow, then."

"Night Lahey."

They turned their opposite directions, but before Lena could open her car door, Isaac spun her around and kissed her. It was soft and quick, and he was walking away by the time she registered what was happening, but it was so wonderful. She watched him as he trotted to his motorcycle, well, Scott McCall's, and he turned slightly to wave and yell, "Night Lena!" with the biggest and stupidest grin plastered across his face.

**Well okay this was not my best work. But please review anyway? I appreciate it ever so much! **


	3. Chapter 3

"Isaac!" Scott called, rushing through the sea of students swarming the halls to get home, with Stiles . "Hey!"

"We need to talk about Lydia," Stiles said when the two boys reached him. "Scott says that he's only seen Deaton once and he hasn't got any answers."

Lydia was a few feet away, talking to Lena. The two had become friends recently, much to Isaac's content. She would fit in.

"What do you mean," Isaac said, turning his back on the girls. "She's a banshee, that's all there is to it."

"Yeah, but see, here's the problem with that," Stiles said, his speech growing increasingly fast as he went on, "We don't know what in God's name that means! Banshee is not a damn answer, is it!"

"Banshee?"

The boys whirled around to see Lena standing there.

"Sorry, I don't mean to pry, but if there's like a project you're doing I could help. I happen to know a thing or two about Celtic folklore, particularly banshees. I'd really be happy to help."

"Uhhh...confrence, real quick, these two, okay." Stiles said, dragging the other two out of earshot of the girl.

"Isaac-"

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Celtic fo-"

"No."

"Folklore-"

"No!"

"Dammit, I thought you said she was normal!"

"She is!"

"Then how-"

"I don't know!"

"I think we should tell her." Scott said, jumping in for the first time.

"Yes, maybe she really could help." Stiles said quickly.

"I said no."

"Maybe we could save lives, Isaac."

"It's dangerous."

"She's in danger just living here." Scott said, trying to be gentle in persuading his friend.

"Look what happened to... to my...dad."

And that was it. Stiles had convinced him. They went back to Lena, and Isaac took ahold of her arm. "We need to talk."

"Okay," Lena said slowly, sitting on the edge of Scott's bed. "So, werewolves, kanima, druids, darach, banshee."

"Yeah." Isaac kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his. "I swear to you, it's all true."

"Oh I believe you. Don't worry about it."

"And..." he swallowed.

"And?" She smiled. He exhaled. They were okay.

Stiles stepped in. "So I know this is like, a big shock and everything, but we need to know what you know and how you know it." She nodded.

"Okay. I'm a second generation Irish immigrant, on my dad's side. My family, the McGuires, or in Gaelic, Mag-Uidhirs, have been around for thousands of years. Our clan was one of the great clans of Ulster. And I'm a direct descendent from the line of chieftans, who were either druids or descended from them. And I mean real druids. Like, robes and ceremonies where they ate bone marrow. Old school, weird-ass, druid druids. Anyway, then there was England and Catholicism, and that's a whole nother thing. But I know about the Old Ways because my granda taught me all about them. I'm his only grandkid. Bit of a dissapointment there wasn't a boy, its the first time. It's all passed down through the line. So, what do you want to know."

"Banshees. Go." Stiles said.

"Banshees. They're really old spirits, they generally belong to really old Celtic families, and they appear to the family before the death of a loved one. They weep and wail, it's actually keening, for the loved one. They're also typically old hags- sorry- and sometimes they're seen washing bloody clothes by hand."

"But, it's Lydia. How does that work?"

"Well, I guess she has some blood in her. Old Irish blood. Everything is about blood, you see. Her family banshee is probably manifesting itself in her. Still... Or! Maybe...yes...well...has she ever almost died? Was she ever really hurt?"

"Peter bit her, but she didn't turn, and she didn't die. That's probably the closest I can think-" Stiles said.

"There! I've heard stories... Hold on." She jumped up, and quickly ran out of the house and to Stiles' Jeep. She threw open the door and grabbed her bag, then ran back to the others and began rooting around in the fairly large bag.

"What? What are you looking for?" Scott asked.

"My granda died two weeks ago," she said quickly as if that answered everything.

"Lena, I'm sorry, why didn't you say anything?" Isaac said.

"Because I'm fine. He was 104. But the other day, they sent me... this." She pulled out what appeared to be an ancient book. Scott said so. "That's because it is. I mean, this thing even has the original Cuchulain stories in it." The boys looked at her blankly. "They're like really old fairy tales. Sort of. Anyway. This is where the Mag-Uidhir clan came from and went to. It's been passed down to each generation, and now I guess I'm the last of the bloodline. But, I think I remember Granda telling me about this old story...here." She stopped rifling through the aged pages. "Thousands of years ago, they found a boy in the woods with a bad animal bite. They thought he would die, I mean, scratches killed people, remember, but he didn't. For a while. Then, the night before a battle he screamed all night. It was awful. And the next morning, 67 men died. It wasn't even his family, or his clan even. It must be community."

"So Lydia..."

"I'm willing to bet that bite was a werewolf. I think that her banshee must have basically sacrificed itself for her, so it saved her from dying or becoming a werewolf. So now, she has a bit of its ability to sense immenent death, but because its no longer truly bound to the family, its anyone in the community. Its fascinating really, the whole thing."

"Can I see that?" Stiles asked. She handed him the book, making sure he was careful with the old leather cover. "What is this, Pig Latin?"

"It's Old Gaelic."

"Oh, of course it is. And you can read it."

"Well, yeah. Granda taught me. He had to."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the last of the bloodline, weren't you listening?"

"Okay, okay. So druids and darachs?"

"That's a bit more gray than black and white."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning there's a lot to sift through, and that's not even a specific question."

"Okay." Stiles paced up and down the floor."We should call Lydia. She should hear this. He dialed and started talking. Isaac went to sit next to Lena.

"Are you really okay?"

"With what, I'm fine."

"Well, you just found out Scott and I are werewolves. Scott's mom didn't even talk to him for a week. And your grandpa..."

"Well you're still you, you haven't changed or anything. And I saw the banshee, our banshee, that is, the night he died, so really, I'm just fine. That's enough closure for me."

"Okay. Well... uh..."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great. Fantastic, actually. Damn, Lena, you're amazing."

"You too, Lahey. You're a freaking man-wolf hybrid!"

"I promise, you're not going to get hurt."

"Don't worry about me, sugar, those puppy eyes will do me in before any druid."

"Puppy eyes? Really?"

"Oh my God, I didn't mean like dogs I just-" They laughed. Very, very hard.

Lydia came.

It was 5:00. Lena was supposed to be at ballet. She hadn't even gone home. She didn't even care. She stayed for dinner at the McCall house, where all three boys were now living. She met Melissa McCall, who was perhaps the kindest woman she had ever met. She treated all of the teenagers like her own children, nevermind that only one of them actually was. This must be what mothers are like.

Mrs. McCall insisted Lena eat everything on her plate. She did. Ten minutes later, she asked for the bathroom. Upon arriving there, she shut the door, and proceeded to hunch over the toilet and vomit. She hated it. She hated herself. While she purged, she cried quietly, imagining a life with Mrs. McCall as her mother. A mother who didn't make a ten year old throw up her every meal, who locked her in her room for days with no food, and taking the lightbulb out of the lights so that she was in total darkness except for the tiny penlight she didn't know the child had, who had stretched her child for hours everyday since she turned three, sitting on her feet, forcing her turnout, arching her back and pulling her hamstrings every single day, no matter how much her own child cried. Because her daughter was going to be perfect. A prima ballerina. Sylvie Guillem reincarnated. There was a knock on the door.

Isaac had excused himself and gone to check on her. They hadn't been able to talk alone all day.

"Just a minute!" She stood up quickly, wiped her cheeks and began brushing her teeth with a little plastic toothbrush while she flushed the toilet.

"Lena? Are you okay?" He had heard her from outside the door.

"Fine!" She called, tossing the toothbrush in the trash and chewing mints before she put in a piece of gum, washing her hands.

"Are you sure?"

She opened the door to face him. "Yeah," she said, sniffling just a little. "Why? I'm totally fine."

"No, you're not. Come on." He led her up the stairs and then sat down at the top. "Tell me exactly what you were doing in there."

"I had to go to the bathroom, Lahey, come on."

"No, you didn't. Please. Don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Throw up everything you eat. Don't try to deny it. I could hear you. And I have before."

"Look, I can't not do it. Okay? I have to."

"No, you do-"

"I do! I do, okay?"

"It's dangerous. So dangerous."

"I've been managing fine for almost 7 years."

"You were ten? Oh God. Did she make you?"

"Who?"

"Your mom. I've heard you talk about her."

"No."

"Lena."

"Yes."

"Talk to me. You're sick, okay, but I'm going to help you get better, I swear to God."

"I'm not sick."

"Please, talk to me. Tell me about her."

"She's just doing what's best for me. For my ballet."

"For you or your ballet?"

She was quiet for a minute before whispering, "My ballet." And she told him everything about her mother. The purging, the dieting and the solitary confinement. He moved closer to her and hugged her, wrapping her in close to him, so that her head was over his heart, and his chin rested on top of her head.

"I'm going to take care of you."

"I'm ok-ay." She said, her voice cracking on the last syllable, as she began to cry, again quietly. She had learned to be an expert at crying quietly. Her mother viewed crying as weakness. And weakness was an imperfection most great. She held onto his left arm with both of her hands.

"Now, I want you to answer me honestly, does she still punish you?" Isaac asked when she had calmed down. She nodded against him. "Okay. Then you're not going back. You're not staying with her anymore."

"Isaac, I have to."

"No, you don't. Not anymore. Please."

"I can't."

"You can. You actually aren't getting a choice. Let me go make a call, okay?" He went downstairs, his blood boilling. He knew the Mrs. McGuire type all to well. She had a lot in common with his dad. He pulled Scott aside and told him of the situation, then he pulled out his phone and dialed. "Hey, Derek? I need a really big favor."

**So that was longer, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Let me know your thoughts? Thanks so much! 3 **


	4. Chapter 4

Lena woke up short of breath and disoriented from a nightmare. For a minute, she had no idea where she was, this was not her bedroom. Then she remembered. It was Cora Hale's, and she was in Derek Hale's apartment. Isaac had brought her there, after calling Derek last night. Then they had driven to Lena's house, where Isaac informed her mother that she would be leaving, not to worry, and not to try anything while Lena grabbed what she could to take with her. Isaac was now back in his old room, and she could tell that he was happy about it.

He was amazing, Isaac. She wasn't sure what exactly they were yet, but he was seemingly the first person to genuinely care about her since her dad.

There was a thump outside her window. She froze. The wind, it was just the wind. Some tree branch or something. She sat up and tried to shake the fear off. She was stronger than that. Her feet touched the cold cement floor as she stood up, sending a wave of goosebumps through her. She decided to explore the apartment, then maybe she would be able to get back to sleep.

She had just stepped outside of her room when she heard a single, quickly stifled sob. She crept as quietly as she could to Isaac's room and tapped on the door. There was so response, so she gently opened the door a crack and slipped inside.

It was dark, but the window let in enough light for her to just barely see him curled into a tiny ball on his bed, shaking like a leaf. "Isaac?" she whispered.

"Go away."

"Isaac, baby, what is it?" she asked, stepping closer to him. His head snapped up and his eyes glowed yellow, a faint growl eminating from his bared teeth, or rather, fangs, as his teeth had changed into those of a wolf. She quickly stepped back. Then, steeling herself she remembered what he had done for her already that night. She walked towards the bed, then reached it. Climbed up. She reached out her hand and touched his shoulder gently, feeling the muscles under her fingers relax ever so slightly.

"It's okay. It's okay, I promise." She whispered to him, over and over until he had relaxed and lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She lay next to him. "Do you want to tell me?"

He suddenly wrapped his arms around her so her head was on his chest and his head was on hers. "No."

"Okay."

"You shouldn't have done that, I could have hurt you."

"Are you better? Even a little?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't care."

He kissed her forehead and squeezed her close to him, clutching her like a lifeline. "Can... can you stay here? For tonight?" She nodded against him.

Neither of them got more than 40 minutes of sleep, and neither moved. The next day was Saturday, so there was really no reason for them to get up.

"You know, at least your eyes are pretty. Yellow eyes are generally ugly, but yours are pretty."

"I'm sorry. I should have- I don't know- controlled myself."

"From what I understand, you did. You could have killed me in an instant if you didn't. You were amazing."

"You're amazing. You've been through hell in the last 24 hours and look at you. You'd never know it."

"I think your hell was worse. You're the amazing one here. I'm not sure what your hell was but you went through it again for me."

They were quiet again, enjoying the safety the morning brought until Lena said, "So now what?"

Isaac shrugged. "I don't know."

"Breakfast? I can make eggs and toast," she suggested.

He chuckled. "Yeah, Derek never really keeps his kitchen well stocked. I'll see what I can whip up."

"Okay."

"Okay." Isaac moved to get up and Lena followed.

She found the bathroom while he went to the kitchen. She washed her face and ran her fingers through her hair and joined him. He was standing hunched over the counter, trying to figure out the toaster. Light from the large window over the sink flooded the room, giving even the concrete apartment a warm tint. "Need help there, Master Chef?" she said, approaching him.

"Pop Tarts," he said, showing her a box. "Basically all he's got. But this damn thing isn't-" he grappled with it some more.

"Let me see," Lena said, taking the toaster. She too was unable to get it to work.

"Who needs to toast stuff anyway?"

They ate the Pop Tarts at room temperature. Isaac made sure Lena ate three, and for the rest of the day he kept a watchful eye on her, to make sure she didn't purge. They spent that day talking. It was three in the afternoon before they got dressed.

That evening they decided to watch a movie. But as Derek's apartment lacked a tv and any moviesm they drove to a penny theatre- where they actually charged a few bucks- that played old movies. There were just a few showing, and in the end they saw a black and white one with Jimmy Stewart. A man was crazy and had an imaginary friend that was a giant rabbit named Harvey. Isaac hated it, but as it turned out it was one of Lena's favorite movies.

He watched her as much as the film.

"What are you looking at?" She whispered, throwing a piece of popcorn at him.

He caught it in his mouth. "You." He threw one at her and she missed, so the popcorn landed a few feet away in the row ahead of them. They dissolved into fits of muffled laughter, shushing each other to no avail.

It was fun. Neither of them really had a lot of fun usually. After the movie, they drove back, stopping at a drivethrough for fries and milkshakes.

"What's going to happen here?" Lena asked from the passenger seat, breaking what had been several minutes of companionable silence. "I mean, do the bad guys win or do the good guys stop them?"

"I don't know. Probably the good guys. It's just figuring out who that is that's the problem. Like Miss Blake. Poor Derek never had the slightest clue." Isaac responded.

"If you turned me into a werewolf I could help." she suggested casually.

"No. Not gonna happen. Besides, wouldn't you turn out like Lydia?" he replied.

"Maybe not."

"Well, it'd have to be Derek, and I don't see him leaving the hospital any time soon."

She let the matter rest and looked out the window at the starry sky. She felt Isaac's hand brush against hers, and their fingers interlaced. She didn't look at him, and he didn't look at her, but a small smile flickered across both of their lips.

**On we go! What did you think? Let me know! xoxoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

That night Lena's nightmares were vivid.

She dreamt she heard the banshee, and so she ran to her window to look, but there was no one there. She turned around, relieved, but screamed as she saw the banshee just feet away from her, keening and washing bloody clothes, her eyes just empty black sockets beneath her wild white hair.

Suddenly, Lena began to feel as a weight was crushing her chest as the air left her lungs. The banshee appeared standing in front of her, so that there was just a few inches between their faces. The hag pointed a gnarly, knuckles finger out of the door and with a woosh they were outside of Isaac's room. The door flew open and she was inside. It was pitch black, but she heard him screaming, and she heard growls and what sounded like a knife cutting meat, but she knew to be claws to skin.

Each scream came from a different direction and each time she tried to follow it, only to hear another.

The scene changed.

She was on stage, suspended from wires several feet above the floor. They wanted her to dance _Don Quixote_. There were no wires in DQ. The wires jerked her around and she was moving all over the stage. The lights blinded her, but somehow she was able to see one seat in the front row, slightly to the right of the center.

Isaac.

And he was dying. Bloodstains soaked through his white shirt, hiddedn mainly by his black suit and tie. He was slumped over. Unconcious. She screamed for someone to help him, to let her down, but no one did a thing.

Suddenly the banshee appeared, floating in front of her. Grinning, the banshee produced a giant pair of scissors and cut the wires. Lena was falling, falling...falling- and she woke up.

She scrambled for the flashlight under her pillow, quickly switching it on and sighing as the darkness dissapated. Getting out of bed was the scariest thing she could imagine, but she had to check on Isaac. So, she tossed off the covers and walked out of her room. She moved slowly, shining the light at every shadow. However she didn't have far to go, because a few feet from her door she ran into him.

"Thank God," she exhaled, hugging him tightly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, returning the embrace.

"Fine. I-nevermind, it's nothing. I'm just glad you're okay." she said.

"I'm glad you're okay. I... heard you screaming, I was just coming to check on you." he said, stroking her hair.

"Well I'm fine."

"Okay."

They went their seperate ways back to their rooms. After almost half an hour of tossing and turning, she went through the hall and crept into Isaac's bed.

"I'm not fine."

"I know. Me neither."

**Just a short one. Onwards and upwards! Review? **


	6. Chapter 6

"Hello?" Lena answered her phone.

"Be ready in 15, we're going shopping," Lydia said on the other end. "I can't believe I've let it go this long! I'm picking you up."

"Oh. Okay, see you then," Lena replied.

"Bye bye." Lydia hung up.

"I don't think you should go alone," Isaac said from the couch.

"Eavesdropping is rude. We'll be fine, I can take care of myself. And Lydia. You, my friend, are a grade A worrywart." She smiled as she walked past him to go to her room and get dressed. Meanwhile, Isaac called Stiles, who said that he and Scott would go and keep an eye on the girls. Isaac himself was going to the hospital to see Derek and Cora.

"Ooh look! Please, _please_ try this one!" Lydia squealed, holding out a maroon dress. Lena laughed, shaking her head as she said it wasn't her color, to which Lydia replied, "Nonsense! Besides, I'm sure Isaac will like it."

"Lydia!"

"Oh please, you're _living together_. Please tell me you're at least sleeping with him."

"No, ew, well, not like, sexually, or anything." Lena whispered.

Lydia laughed, "Oh sweetie, you're adorable, really. I give it two, three weeks tops."

"Lydia!"

"Well you like him right? And he likes you. I mean at this point he's your boyfriend whether you like it or not."

"He's kissed me a total of once."

"He kissed you and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't really know you!"

"Hm. Well I suppose that's a valid excuse. Now try on the dress and I guess I can forgive you." Lydia held it out, and rolling her eyes, Lena took it and went to the fitting rooms.

While they continued to shop, Stiles and Scott stood outside of the store, casually watching everyone who went inside.

"Wait, yo, that's them," Stiles said, and the boys ducked into the store next door, waiting for the girls to pass until they could follow them.

The next store was two stories and part of it was under construction, so the boys decided that the best course of action to watch them was to "happen to run into them," and stay with them. However before they could, Lena backed up, leaving Lydia looking at a pair of jeans, and approached the boys.

"Did something happen? About Lydia? Is everyone okay?" she asked quickly.

"No no, everything's fine," Scott said, trying to think of a good lie. "We're just...shopping. You know. Hanging out." He laughed, trying and failing to be convincing.

"You've been tailing us all day." Lena pointed out.

"Look," Stiles intervened, "we just wanted to keep an eye on her. In case Jennifer tries anything."

"Okay. Hey Lydia! Look who I found!" They were right, she thought. Lydia was still in danger. And, as her friend, Lena decided to watch out for her herself. However, the boys did get annoying, after a while, and she and Lydia ditched them to try on the clothes they had found. But, they decided to go to the upper level's fitting rooms if only to be free from the constant chatter and breaths down their necks.

Almost all of the floor was covered in white plastic sheets. They hung from the ceiling everywhere, like a maze.

"Miss Havisham's been decorating," Lena commented, as they tried to find the fitting room.

"It appears that way, yeah," Lydia agreed.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Lena saw a shadow and a sheet move. She stopped abruptly, turning to look in the direction in which she had seen it. Then she saw it on her other side. It was circling them.

"What's happening?" Lydia whispered.

"Text Scott and Stiles," Lena whispered back, before calling out, "Hello?"

"Hello." Jennifer Blake said, stepping out behind them. Lena jumped in front of Lydia. "There's no need, Lydia. They won't get here in time."

"Stop," Lena said, dropping the clothes in her hand and pulling out a small knife from her jacket. Her dad taught her to whittle. Carving a cube was basically the extent of her abilities, but if she had to, she could probably stab Jennifer. She had covered the blades of her Swiss Army knife in a mistletoe paste at Isaac's suggestion. He wanted her to carry it all the time, but she hadn't thought it nessicary. She didn't know it was in her pocket until she was halfway to the mall.

"Lena, right?" Jennifer said, taking a few steps forward. "I'm sorry to say I couldn't have had you longer in my class. You seem so bright."

"That's not exactly praise, coming from you." Lena said. She could feel the blood drain from her face and her heart pounding against her chest.

"Oh, sweetheart," the darach began, "I thought at least you would understand. I've been so looking forward to knowing you. For almost seventeen years. Don't disappoint me now."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Darling," Jennifer chuckled, "you are a legend. The very minute you were born it reverberated through our circles. Your name written down in the books of our people. You see, Lena, you and I are the same. I can help you, and you can help me. We would be unstoppable."

"Stop. Stop it."

"You are Magdalena Mag-Uidhir. Born on the solstice, two thousand years exactly after the ancient druid preists sacrificed 15 people. Can you guess who? I'll tell you. Three virgins, three soldiers, three philosophers, three healers, and three guardians. All in preparation for your birth. You are the child of legend. The last of the ancient bloodline of your clan. There are just twelve more like you in the world, but you, you Magdalena are the most powerful." Jennifer held out her hand, beckoning Lena.

"That's insane. You're insane."

"Is it? Am I? Your granda, a philosopher. Dead. I met him once. Lovely man, wasn't he, old Terry. And Daddy, a soldier. He's dead too. It goes back and back, all because of you, darling Wise Child."

"You want me to help you because my whole family is dead?" Lena said, harshly.

"So you know about your mother?"

"My mother? No, she's not anything, she's from... I don't even know. Everywhere I suppose."

"Oh of course not. I just meant the dead part. I'd only just done it."

"You sacrificed my mother?"

"Oh no, Magda, I simply killed her to get her out of the way. I can take care of you. I brought you here to be with me. I can help you, train you. We could rid the world of so much evil."

"Killing you would work a bit better, don't you think?"

"You don't know how. I assure you that if you try to harm me, I will kill Lydia. And finish it this time."

"I could stab you right now."

"Alright Magda, you want to play? Let's play. If I win, they die. Lydia. Stiles. Scott. And need I say Isaac? You win, I don't kill them yet. Ready, set..._go_."

Jennifer changed, shifting into her true skin. She stretched out her hands as Lena threw the knife at her chest, surprised at her own accuracy. But Jennifer had seemed to expel some kind of force with her hands and both Lydia and the knife went flying back, feet into the air.

"No!" Lena screamed, reaching a hand to Lydia, whose descent slowed so she landed safely, the knife near her.

Jennifer looked surprised, but not nearly as much as Lena. The darach hissed and reached again and again at Lena, each time only managing to blow her hair. Lena stuck out her own palm, envisioning the monster flying back, and to her shock, she did.

"So I guess I win?" Lena said. "Lydia, knife!" Lydia tossed her friend the closed knife and Lena caught it, flicking open the blade. She walked towards the woman that was now on her feet. "Please don't make me hurt you. Just stop. You've corrupted the old ways."

Instead of a reply, Miss Blake let out a snarl, and lept on top of the girl, grabbing her wrists with almost bone crushing strength. Lena screamed in pain as Jennifer stuck a knee sharply between her ribs and drove a razor sharp stiletto heel deep into her left thigh, yanking it up, tearing her leg. As she screamed, Jennifer was blown even further away.

Breathing heavily, Lena got to her feet, holding the knife again. Jennifer lay stirring on the floor, and Lena threw the knife, which landed in the center of her left palm and protruding to the other side. The darach screamed as the mistletoe seared her veins and all of a sudden she vanished.

At that moment, Scott and Stiles burst through a sheet of plastic. Scott caught Lena as she collapsed on her left leg.

"We couldn't get through, there was like a barrier, and then it was just gone." He said.

"It was Jennifer. Is Lydia okay? And call Isaac, I have to call Isaac." she said, panicking. Jennifer could be there in an instant, and kill him.

"Lydia's fine. You need to go to the hospital. You can see Isaac there." Scott said, moving to pick her up.

"No, just let me call him." She used Scott's phone and dialed. Isaac picked up quickly.

"Scott? What's up, is she okay?"

"Isaac," she said letting go of the breath she had been holding.

"Lena, thank God."

"You're okay?" she asked him.

"Why wouldn't I be? Are you? What happened?"

"Nothing. Just-just be extra careful, okay? We're actually going to swing by you." She did her very best to stay calm and not to start crying.

"Okay. You can tell me then. Give me to Scott." She handed over the phone, and the boys had a few quick exchanges, then Scott helped Lena stand and walk out. She could barely stand, but refused to be carried out as it would call attention to them. So Scott kept his arm around her waist and hers around her shoulder and she used him as a crutch, until just before they got outof the store, when her legs gave out. He scooped her up despite her protestations, and ran to Stiles' Jeep, the other two following close behind him.

Lydia rode in the back with Lena while Scott and Stiles sat up front. Lydia was trying to keep pressure on the leg, but it was still bleeding profusely.

"It's bleeding really bad!" she called. "It's not stopping, not even slowing."

"Uhh... use a tourniquet!" Stiles said, "Find something!"

"Okay, okay," Lydia said, frantically scrambling to find something to use. "Wait, here." She took off the belt that cinched the waist of her dress and pulled it tight above the wound. Lena inhaled sharply as pain shot up through her leg. "She's really pale, I think she's lost a lot of blood."

"We're almost there, there are going to be people waiting to take her, I called my mom." Scott said, twisting in his seat to look at Lena. She didn't look good at all. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, and she was as white as a sheet, almost gray, and every minute she looked more and more ashen. "Stiles, floor it," Scott hissed.

"I can't, Scott," Stiles said through gritted teeth, "If I do, they'll slide all over the back, okay? That. No good."

"Lydia," Lena whispered. Her throat was extraordinarily dry. "Tell him...you know." Lydia nodded, smiling down at Lena.

"Only if you don't yourself."

Lena felt dizzy and sick and so so tired. She closed her eyes. Just for a minute.

**So thoughts? Also how about that finale are you all dying because I am omg.**


	7. Chapter 7

Lena came to slowly, the flourescent lights of the hospital blinding her, making her surroundings blurred and washed out. A TV, cabinets, a bed, an IV. She felt very dizzy, but she was determined to remember why she was there. The memories came back in short bursts and didn't make much sense.

Then she felt a shooting pain in her leg and she remembered. Jennifer had stabbed her in the leg with the stiletto heel of her shoe, which had been all too much like its namesake. How embarassing. She lifted the blankets covering her to look at her wound. It was bandaged, though bloodstained, and although it still hurt, she was surely able to walk on the leg.

She laughed a little at her current state. A high heel. Really. A high heel had landed her in the hospital. But as she laughed, there was suddenly a pain in her ribs. One of the machines she was hooked up to began to beep faster, and a nurse ran in. Melissa McCall.

"Hi sweetie," she said, gently taking Lena's hand, avoiding the dark bruises that existed on both of her wrists. "I'm glad to see you're awake. We should be able to discharge you soon. You lost a lot of blood, but she didn't hit the artery, which would have been much worse. You got a blood transfusionand a fair few stitches, and other than a few bruised ribs, you're going to be just fine."

"Thank you so much," Lena said, "Is everyone else okay?"

"Yes, everyone's fine. You've had a guard outside your door for the last 24 hours. They weren't allowed to visit, we were only allowing in family, but we couldn't reach your mother. Now that you're conscious, I can let them in, if that's alright."

"Yes, thank you," Lena said. Mrs. McCall started to leave, but Lena stopped her. "Wait! Uh, well... Do I look okay? Do you have a mirror?" Melissa smiled, and turned around to give the girl her compact.

"You look beautiful, sweetie." she said. "But, Miss Martin wanted me to give you this, now that I remember." She handed Lena a tube of mascara, and they both chuckled a little. But Lena applied it nonetheless, and then Mrs. McCall left the room. She didn't want them to see her looking gross in a hospital bed. By them, she supposed she meant _him_. Lydia must have known, and Lena felt a warmth in her heart. She didn't look great, but at least she didn't look awful.

Almost as soon as Melissa had left the room, Lydia, Stiles and Isaac entered it. Isaac was at her side in a flash, and kissed her forehead.

"I'm so sorry," he said, through what sounded like a lump in his throat. "I should have gone with you. And now..." he seemed on the verge of tears.

"Shhh...Shhh...It's alright, I'm fine, I'm okay. You're okay. We're okay." She said, smiling up at him.

"What hurts?" he asked.

"Nothing, I'm a-okay," she lied. He took her hand and his veins pulsed blue as she felt her pain alleviate. "You didn't have to-" she stopped. "Thank you."

Lydia and Stiles came closer. "You were awesome though," Lydia said. "Really." Lena laughed slightly. "That bitch doesn't stand a chance against you."

"Thanks," Stiles said. Suddenly, Lena understood that he was completley in love with Lydia. It made lots of sense, now that she saw it.

"Anytime."

"We'll go find Scott," Lydia said. "I think he'll want to see you." She took Stiles' hand and waved as she led him out of the room.

"They're so cute," Lena said as they left.

"He's been after her as long as I can remember, it's about time," Isaac said. He held her hand and they were quiet. His fingertips brushed over the bruises marking her wrists. "Anything you want to talk about?" he asked her as he moved a piece of hair out of her face, his fingers lingering on her skin.

He still blamed himself. He never wanted her to get hurt, not even a scratch. He believed her to be his responsibility, especially now. And if her mother truly was dead- an increasingly real possibility- then he was the only person left to take care of her. Although she had protected not only herself, but Lydia too. And Stiles and Scott, even himself. Lydia had told them everything Jennifer had said. But he was still worried about her. That, it seemed, would never dissapate. Yet he kept feeling these strange bursts of what he knew to be pride. He was so proud of her.

She shook her head. "No, not right now. How is Cora?"

"Not great, the last time I saw her, but that was hours ago. Derek's with her now though, and Peter thinks that there's something they can do." he said. They were quiet some more. "When you get out of here, I'm going to make you so many eggs and a ton of toast."

She laughed, wincing. "How about just tea."


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you sure you're okay? You haven't eaten much. Do you want more tea? Or blankets? Or pillows?"

"Isaac, I mean it, I'm fine! Truly." Lena said, from the window seat where Isaac had set up a sea of pillows and blankets for her. She was wearing one of his sweaters that swallowed her, as the temperature in Beacon Hills had dropped significantly and Derek's apartment either didn't have central heating, or they were unable to find any way to work it. "Come here." She beckoned him, and he came over to sit behind her. She leaned against his chest as she studied her granda's book.

"Anything interesting in there?" the boy asked, looking over her shoulder at the elegant lettering of the Gaelic words. He had told her that Lydia had told himself, Scott and Stiles everything Jennifer said, word for word, thanks to her gigantic brain. He had asked her, "Do you think you could be a druid then?"

"Any old codger could be a druid," she had answered. "But she made it sound like something else. And twelve like me."

"That could mean, like, twelve more people are the ends of their bloodlines." He had replied.

"There are some things," she said. "Oh here, there's a really great story here." She began to read as he played lazily with her hair.

"_Once upon a time_- it doesn't actually say that, I just like it- _there lived a young prince. He was well loved by the people,, despite his youthfulness, and had proved himself a good leader and soldier in times of war. Though the war was over, the chieftan was dying of a wound from battle, which he attained while bravely fighting and felling thousands of enemies. Before he did so pass, he named the young prince his successor. When the chieftan died, the young prince indeed took his place_

_One day, the young chieftan was exploring in the heart of another friendly clan. He happened upon a maid mending garments in the street. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, so he brought her back home with hi, and they fell in love. They were betrothed, but there was another woman. She was unknown to the young chieftan, in fact, to almost everyone. She was a priestess, and she lived in the eaves above the castle of the clan. She watched the young chieftan grow up and was infatuated. She hated his beloved with enough vehemence to turn her dark. She appeared at the wedding, and cast a curse upon the happy couple. She knew that more than anything, the maiden desired a daughter to raise as a princess and her companion. The curse, the priestess declares, would allow the couple but one child- a boy- and so too would their offspring be cursed for eternity. However, as the priestess was not yet totally evil, she gave the couple a choice, and amended the original curse. They would indeed have a daughter, but they must bring the child to the caves, where the priestess would raise her, and if they did not do this, the child would be killed and the family cursed as earlier. Then, the priestess disappeared._

_Though shaken, the couple chose not to pay the curse any mind. Then, their daughter was born. The priestess waited for the child, but she never came. For ten years, the child was no where to be seen, and with each passing day the priestess grew more and more furious. Finally, on the tenth birthday of the princess, the priestess descended to the castle and fulfilled her terrible threat. She killed the child and the family was cursed for all of eternity._

_However, the wicked actions of the priestess did not go unpunished. When she murdered the pure child, she became a darach, and was hunted and killed by her good counterparts."_

Lena finished, satisfied with her narration and looked up at Isaac.

"And?" he demanded, when it became apparent to him that she was done.

"And what? That's the end."

"That's a terrible ending."

"What's a good ending? The antagonist died."

"A good ending is "_But despite the so-called curse, they had a daughter, who everyone loved, and one day a visiting prince thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and they fell in love and he took her to his clan where they were married and lived happily ever after."_"

"That's not a very Celtic ending, I'm afraid."

"I don't care, it's a much better one."

The two returned to amiable silence while Lena read through the pages. "You know," Lena said, "I've been thinking. You haven't kissed me since the week I met you."

"That's true." Isaac said, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I didn't know you wanted me to."

"Well, if you want to, I don't mind," she said, smiling.

"Hmm…" Isaac said, "let me think…okay come here." He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers.

It was a gentle kiss, not too long and not too short. "You just wait until your leg's all patched up." He said, before kissing her again.

**What's this? An update? Wow so crazy. I've been incredibly busy with school, so sorry for the wait, I'll try to get one chapter up every weekend at least : ) Xoxo**

**Fancy leaving a review? That'd be cool. **


End file.
